


Secrets in the Silence

by stillskies



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 03:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillskies/pseuds/stillskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time to tell Touya about Sai, but he's not sure how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets in the Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round 8 of [Blind Go](http://blind-go.livejournal.com/).

It isn’t a difficult choice to make – after all, he’d promised years ago to tell Touya about Sai, and, to Touya’s credit, has never been pressed on the issue. No, the problem has never been whether or not to _tell_ Touya, but _how_.

(Well, and _when_ , if he’s being honest, but that issue seems to have resolved itself since Hikaru moved into the Touya family’s house – Touya-sensei and Touya-san moved to China last year.

It was more of a favor to Touya-san, who, over dinner one night, expressed her concerns about leaving her son all alone in such a big house. He had wanted to suggest Touya get an apartment – he could easily afford it – but Touya-san scared him, and he quickly offered to move in.

He had told himself he’d wanted to move out anyway.

Waya called him whipped.)

It’s been three years now, and Hikaru feels that he’s ready to tell the story.

+++

It isn’t that he doesn’t want to know – after all, Shindou promised quite some time ago to tell Akira about Sai, and he’s been very patient despite wanting to throw something every time Shindou’s eyes cloud over. No, he desperately wants to know, but he can’t figure out a way to ask that doesn’t make it seem like he doesn’t trust Shindou – because he _does_ , even when he shouldn’t, like that time he believed Shindou when he said that it would only be a _few_ people coming over for video games (it took _months_ to get the smell of alcohol out of the living room) – or seem like an insensitive jerk who wants to prod at Shindou’s emotional scars.

(And it’s not like Shindou hasn’t had a chance since he moved in when Akira’s parents relocated permanently.

Something that he had protested, saying that he could move out and get an apartment, but his father stood firm, saying that there was no need to rent an apartment which would cost more that staying in the house they already owned. Akira, of course, had to agree for practicality’s sake.

“Besides,” his mother had said, “you’d have just moved in with Shindou-san, anyway. And this way, we have a familiar place to stay when we visit.”

There was no real way to refute that point, either, without seeming like an ungrateful son.)

It’s been three years, and Akira is ready to hear the story, but he knows he could still wait three more.

+++

 _How do you tell someone that you were haunted by a go playing ghost?_ Hikaru thinks as he sits down to dinner. _Without seeming insane_ , he adds. Touya is watching closely as Hikaru moves sushi from the platter to his plate. _Does Touya even **believe** in ghosts?_ he asks himself.

It’s his turn to stare at Touya, who is dipping a piece of sushi into soy sauce.

 _Well_ , he decides, _only one way to find out_.

+++

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Akira swallows the sushi he has just placed on his tongue, quickly choking as the piece gets lodged in his throat. He begins to pound his chest frantically to dislodge the sushi while Shindou watches from across the table, horror slowly creeping onto his face.

By the time Shindou shoots up from his seat and rounds the table, Akira has freed the piece of food and is gasping for air. He grabs his water glass and chugs it once he can breathe again.

“Were,” Akira manages after a moment, “were you trying to _make_ me one?”

Shindou shakes his head rapidly, standing next to Akira’s chair awkwardly. “No! It was just a question!”

Akira nods. “Good,” he replies. “Because, had you killed me with your stupid question, I’d have come back and haunted you!”

Shindou rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he mutters and goes back to his seat.

Akira looks at the remaining food on his plate and decides he’s no longer hungry. “Yes,” he says after a moment. When he sees Shindou’s confused expression, he sighs. “Yes, I do believe in ghosts.”

For some reason, shock and relief dance on Shindou’s face.

+++

He shouldn’t have been surprised, he tells himself as he gets ready for bed. After all, Touya’s family is very traditional – _well_ , he amends, _Touya and **sensei** are_ – so, it would only be logical for him to believe in spirits and ghosts. 

_But_ , a little voice in the back of his mind whispers, _does that mean he’ll believe **you**?_

“Why not?” Hikaru asks out loud. 

The room stays mockingly silent.

Hikaru snorts. “Figures.”

+++

He can’t sleep. He’s not sure if it’s nerves or Shindou’s muttered _it won’t be the first time_ or if the house is too quiet – which isn’t really true because Shindou’s room is _right next door_ and if he turns that radio up any louder, Akira is going to _scream_ – but he can’t quite seem to get comfortable in his futon.

He thinks of Shindou sprawled across his large western style bed and feels his face warm.

 _Maybe_ , a voice that sounds suspiciously like Shindou says innocently, _you should get a western style bed_.

Akira tells the voice to kindly shut up. “My futon is _fine_ ,” he asserts out loud. As if to prove his point, he burrows further under the thin blanket, and closes his eyes.

Twenty minutes later – Akira has been silently counting seconds, hoping it will put him to sleep – Shindou-voice says, _We see how well that’s working for ya_.

+++

The first thing he notices when he finally drags his tired behind down for breakfast – Touya is a real stickler on that for some reason that Hikaru has not been able to fathom – is that Touya looks like hell. There are bags under his eyes, and he’s using the sparkly bobby pins that Hikaru got him as a gag gift last New Year’s.

“I,” Touya announces after he places the kettle on the table, “am going to buy a new bed.”

“Okay…?” Hikaru replies, taken aback. The unexpected announcement drives all thoughts of telling Touya about Sai right out the window. “Does the futon need to be replaced?” He tries to remember where his _is_ – his mother had bought him one as a moving out present, even though Hikaru had told her he didn’t _need_ one, hadn’t slept on a futon since he was _five_ , and that it would just go to waste. “I think I put mine in the attic? You can have it.”

“I’m getting a western style bed,” Touya says, voice full of conviction.

Hikaru just stares. “I thought you said that they were – what were your words? _An extravagant waste of money and space?_ ”

“I changed my mind,” Touya snarls, pouring their tea. There is fruit – Touya – and donuts – Hikaru – laid out on the table. 

“Ashiwara-san?”

Touya nods.

Hikaru has to remember to thank Saeki-san for borrowing his wife next time he sees him.

+++

Akira stares at the large quantity of beds as Shindou runs around, flopping on whichever one seems to strike his fancy at the moment. 

He knows that there are many types – sizes just being one distinguishing factor – but he didn’t expect to see rows upon rows of mattresses and accompanying paraphernalia. 

Shindou is lying down on something that looks a bit too large for Akira’s liking – _queen size mattress, box springs included, great price!_ the attached sign says – and Akira gingerly sits on it.

Twenty minutes later, Akira is finishing up the paperwork and the sales representative is assuring them that they’d deliver it to the correct address later that afternoon.

+++

“No,” Hikaru says, shaking his vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

Touya frowns and lowers the bedding set. “Why not?”

“You are not buying _argyle bedding_. I reject.”

Touya rolls his eyes – Hikaru has to wonder just how much of a bad influence he’s been on Touya – and says, “You don’t have to sleep on it, Shindou. What does it matter to you?”

Hikaru’s face heats up and he turns around, telling Touya to buy whatever he damn well wants to buy, and walks away. 

He’s only gone twenty feet when Touya catches up with him. “What is your problem?” Touya asks softly.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He notices that Touya still has the hideous yellow and brown argyle bed set in his hands. “Nothing,” he admits. “I’m just… stressed. That’s all.”

Which is partially true – it’s the beginning of May, which means that Sai’s anniversary is only a few days away, and he has a qualifying match for the Honinbou tournament against Waya on the fourth – but for some reason, Touya’s voice keeps echoing in surround sound in his head.

 _You don’t have to sleep on it_ , it repeats mockingly.

Touya nods, as though he completely understands – which, Hikaru acknowledges, he probably does, since he’s in the third round of the Meijin tournament and the semi-finals of the Ouza – and places his hand on Hikaru’s shoulder.

It is probably meant to comfort, but the touch makes his entire shoulder warm in a way that is decidedly not comfortable. He grits his teeth and smiles. “Let’s get your ugly sheets and go.”

+++

It takes every ounce of control he possesses – and some he doesn’t – to _not_ throw the goke at Shindou’s head. 

“Do you even _think_ before you lay a stone?” Akira asks incredulously.

“For crying out loud, Touya,” Shindou gripes, pointing to the stone in question, “it revived the center!”

“And killed the corner!” Akira retorts, gesturing to the cluster of dead stones.

“Does it matter? I still won.”

“Barely.”

The chime of the doorbell interrupts them and Akira stands to get the door.

+++

Hikaru stares at the game sitting in front of him and traces the edge of the goban. After a moment, he clears the board and places a stone, then another one, and another. The game that is in front of him now is unfinished, one Hikaru knows by heart.

Touya peeks his head into the room and tells him that Ogata-san will be joining them for dinner, and he’ll be back as soon as the delivery guys have finished setting up the bed. Hikaru nods and continues to stare at the stones.

+++

Akira makes sure to wish Shindou luck as he’s leaving for his game – late, again, but then, you’d think that Akira would be used to seeing Shindou rushing out the door with a slice of toast clasped in his _teeth_ like some hero out of a manga – before starting the household chores. Ashiwara-san promised to show up later in the day for Akira’s cooking lessons, and, while the house isn’t _messy_ , he doesn’t want Ashiwara-san to feel compelled to clean.

(Which, Shindou has pointed out several times, is Ashiwara-san’s issue, not Akira’s, and if Ashiwara-san wants to clean, then who are they to stop him? 

Akira had thrown his slipper at Shindou’s head.)

He enters the parlor and begins dusting, noticing the game sitting half finished on the board. He puts the duster down and starts to examine the board, noting that it’s not a game that he’s seen before, and it hasn’t moved further than fuseki. 

_I wonder who he was playing against?_ Akira wonders, and makes a mental note to ask Shindou when he gets home.

+++

Hikaru wins, barely, and rushes through the discussion and interviews that follow. Waya is eyeing him strangely, and Hikaru waves as he dashes out of the building.

Kawai-san is waiting out front, leaning against his taxi.

“Did you win?” Kawai-san asks.

Hikaru flashes him a thumbs up.

Kawai-san grins. “Let’s get going, then.”

+++

Akira gets an e-mail around five from Shindou – _won by 1.5m, hnging out. B home l8._ – so he leaves out a plate of curry from today’s lesson with a note telling Shindou to warm it up and goes to bed around nine.

He wakes up the next morning with an odd feeling in his stomach and decides to ask Shindou whether or not the curry made him feel slightly sick. He makes his way downstairs to start the kettle when he notices the curry still on the table. A quick check in the hallway confirms that Shindou is not home, and probably didn’t even come back last night.

The sick feeling in his stomach intensifies.

+++

Kawai-san is safely in the parlor they visited the first time they came here, leaving Hikaru to clean Shuusaku’s headstone in peace. He burns some incense and sits on the dirt, telling the empty area about his year.

“I’m going to tell Touya,” Hikaru says. “Tonight. Hope you don’t mind, Sai.”

He looks up at the sky and smiles. “Maybe I’ll bring Touya here next year, too. We could sit here and play a game. I’m sure you’d like that.”

A glance at his wrist shows that it’s close to two in the afternoon. 

“Okay, Sai,” Hikaru says, standing and dusting his jeans off, “Gotta go. Same time, next year?”

Silence answers him.

Hikaru smiles and wipes the tears from his eyes. “Yeah. See ya, then.”

+++

By the time Shindou gets home, Akira has cleaned the entire house top to bottom, has called _every single one_ of Shindou’s friends, and has made enough food to feed both Ogata-san’s study group – which used to be his father’s, before Ogata-san took it over – and Morishita-sensei’s group _combined_. 

He’s staring at the unfinished game on the goban when Shindou finds him, smiling sheepishly. Akira notices that Shindou’s eyes are red.

“Sorry,” Shindou says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Akira throws a white stone at Shindou’s head.

+++

“Oww!” Hikaru cries, rubbing his chest, silently thankful that Touya has _really_ bad aim. “That hurt!”

“You said,” Touya begins evenly, “that you wouldn’t disappear again.”

“But I didn’t?” Hikaru tries, knowing that semantics wasn’t going to work on Touya. “I said I’d be home late.”

“ _Late_ implies that it would be sometime that night, or early the next morning,” Touya replies, standing. “Not three in the morning _two days later_.”

Hikaru sighs and looks at the goban and frowns. He assumed Touya would have cleared the game by now. Touya follows his gaze and raises an eyebrow.

Hikaru gets an idea. “Hey, Touya,” he says, “wanna play?”

+++

It’s harder to play as Shindou than Akira would have thought. Logic has always seemed to be a foreign concept to his rival, but watching as Shindou plays white, the determined slant in his eyes, Akira’s concentration is breaking. He places the stone and sees Shindou nod.

“This was the last game we played,” Shindou says softly, placing the next stone with a soft pachi. “We never finished it because I got mad at him, and then he was gone.”

Akira plays next, killing a cluster on the side.

“I thought it was one of his jokes – he always got mad at me when I didn’t want to play – but he had never left my side before.”

There is silence as they segue into chuuban.

“I thought,” Shindou continues softly, “if I stopped playing he’d come back, but he didn’t.”

Akira focuses on the board, at the patterns of stones, and listens, trying to piece together the things Shindou isn’t saying.

Shindou places his stone, and kills the cluster in the upper left. “I never got to say goodbye.”

They are in yose now, the stones being placed much quicker, though Akira can see that he is losing – badly.

The last stone is placed, and Shindou smiles sadly. “I should have known.”

“Should have known what?” Akira asks, staring at the board and wondering how he lost so badly – even if he was playing as Shindou, it shouldn’t have been such a complete embarrassment.

“That I wouldn’t have beaten Sai,” Shindou explains, staring up at the ceiling. “After all, how do you beat a ghost that’s been playing for a thousand years?”

+++

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, Hikaru thinks. Finish his unfinished game with Sai and tell Touya about him in the process.

But the way Touya is sitting across from him, completely frozen and staring at him blankly, makes Hikaru doubt his brilliance.

“Uh, Touya?” Hikaru says slowly, waving his hand in front of Touya’s face. “You okay?”

Touya blinks. “What did you say?”

“Um,” Hikaru starts, confidence draining out of him second by second, “that Sai was a ghost who liked to play go?”

“Oh,” Touya says and stands. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

Hikaru blinks. “Um, Touya? You okay?”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Touya says. “Good night.”

+++

Akira doesn’t sleep that night. He knows that Shindou isn’t lying – there is no way that Shindou would lie about this; Sai is too important of a memory for him to make a joke out of – but he does find it a bit hard to accept.

He thinks back to the first few times he met Shindou – the awkward way he held the stones but the breathtaking formations, the uncertainty in Shindou’s face and the way he always glanced at something just to the left of him. He remembers the way Shindou’s eyes always got a little cloudy, as if he were listening to something that no one else could hear. The game against Akira’s father and the ridiculous handicap, followed by the netgo game that led to his father’s resignation. 

How Sai only appeared as himself on the internet.

Akira doesn’t sleep. Instead, he stares at the ceiling and thinks about ghosts and Shindou Hikaru.

+++

Hikaru can’t cook – Ashiwara-san has offered to give him lessons, but Hikaru laughed it off and told him that he’s a hopeless case in the kitchen – but he can make tea, so when Touya stumbles down the stares the next morning, there is a cup waiting for him.

“Morning,” Hikaru says cheerfully.

Touya just stares at him, adds some sugar to his tea, and sips at it.

The silence is unnerving – he hasn’t quite gotten used to it, not after having Sai with him day and night and the hours in between, chattering about one thing or another, for two years – so Hikaru pours a bowl of cereal, mostly just to hear the tiny flakes make tiny chiming sounds as they hit the inside of the bowl.

“How did he die?”

Hikaru looks up and sees Touya looking right at him, expression completely serious, and Hikaru relaxes.

“Well,” he begins, sitting down, cereal forgotten, “back in the Heian era…”


End file.
